


Devoured by the beast

by SnowPrincess (KyokoUchiha)



Series: Moonlight Affairs [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bestiality, Bite marks, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Human Lance (Voltron), M/M, Mention of Gore, Rimming, The Movie, Top Keith (Voltron), Van Helsing Style Werewolves, Werewolf Keith (Voltron), Werewolves, kill to survive mentality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 21:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16354370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyokoUchiha/pseuds/SnowPrincess
Summary: One morning Lance returns home from partying and stumbles across an unconscious and naked man. He takes him home and bandages him up. After a few hours he wakes up with a hangover and discovers that the stranger is gone.A month later Lance gets up early because he can’t sleep anymore and discovers the same man in the back of his garden. Again naked and unconscious. He takes him home again but this time he stays by his side and after the man rouses from sleep Lance is able to demand answers.After that Keith comes every morning after the full moon. Until one evening he texts Lance that he'll stop coming. Lance takes it upon himself to find him in the forest. There for the first time he sees him turn into a werewolf.--"Lance swallows down the fear and takes a peek over his shoulder to get a look at the beast’s crotch. And holy motherfuckin’ that dick is HUGE. Long and thick, hairless and, oh boy, is it dripping with precum. Big drops of white spill down the length and slosh onto his backside.And Lance isn’t that naive to not understand what the beast intends to do."





	Devoured by the beast

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Keithtober, Kinktober, Klancetober—whatever.
> 
> Just know that it’s Klance and it has bestiality. If you don’t like that, then please don’t read ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> To all the others who are here because of that tag, welcome. I hope you enjoy. But you have to know that the smut is nearly at the end. I’m surprised how many words I wrote before actually coming to the smut I intended to write. First there was the idea to write Lance getting fucked by werewolf!Keith. What followed were over 10.000 words of introduction…  
> Yeah, well I hope you like it. This is my contribution to this wonderful month. Happy reading ( *¯ ³¯*)♡

On a Sunday morning in March Lance is on his way back to his house, which is located some miles outside of the city, where the last bus stop ends about a mile away from it. In his half-drunken state he managed to take the first bus on this day. Because walking the whole way from the city to his house... yeah not a good idea.

So here he is, at—with half-lidded eyes he checks the time on his phone—some time after 6 am, dragging his half-asleep ass back home from a college part. Frat party. God, he doesn’t know what they put in the punchbowl but he definitely knows that he’ll get a massive headache later.

“I’ll never stay that late again”, he mumbles and nearly trips over a rock. With a curse he kicks at it and yelps at the sting in his foot. Damn. Big rock.

“I should have taken Ryan’s over”, he whines and resumes his way.

Still some distance away he chooses to take the way through the bushes because that will take him towards the garden and to the backdoor of the house. This way he won’t have to make a wide berth. He also knows that part of the forest well so he won’t have to worry about tripping over roots and rocks.

Still he does trip and this time he doesn’t manage to catch his balance again and promptly falls forward onto his hands and knees. Luckily his knees are protected by is pants but his palms are not so luckily. He hisses and checks the scrapes, they’re small and will heal.

With a sigh he stands back up, sways a little, dusts off his pants and turns around to look at the cause for his fall. His eyes go wide in shock upon seeing the unconscious body of a man on the ground, half lying in a bush, which is the reason why Lance hadn’t seen him in the first place.

Slowly he approaches the body and kneels at the side to check for a pulse. Relieved to find one he pulls back to take a closer look. The man has raven hair, pale skin with a prominent scar on his right cheek and seems to be _sleeping_. Oh and he’s _naked_. Lance blinks and feels his cheeks flare when his eyes land on the bare ass.

He hastily pulls his jacket off his shoulders and covers up the middle of his frame.

“Geeze, why are you lying naked in a forest, dude”, he mumbles. Not that the other will give him an answer. With a heavy sigh Lance hoists an arm around his shoulders and gets up. He lets out a grunt from the sudden heaviness but he manages to get both of them onto their feet. He nearly stumbles to the side but steadies his legs in time to stay upright. Ah fuck, he should just let him lie here. But Lance can’t ignore someone in need of help and judging by the bleeding scrapes across his front he needs it.

With his mind made up he begins to drag the guy with him towards his home, which luckily only takes a few more minutes. His legs are nearly giving out by the time he reaches the back porch where he drops the man to get his keys out of his bag. After opening the backdoor he makes his way inside to grab some blankets from the cupboard in the hallway to splay them on the couch in the living room corner. Then he goes back to drag the man by a hold under his armpits inside. Luckily his jacket prevents his ass from dragging on the hardwood floor.

After successfully hefting the guy onto the couch Lance crumples onto the floor to take a few moments to get his breathing back under control. He hadn’t expected that guy to be _that_ heavy.

When he’s not panting that hard anymore, Lance stands up and makes his way towards the bedroom to change into some comfortable wear, get something to wear for the guy and the first-aid kit from the bathroom.

After returning he turns on the lamp at the side table to get a proper look at the scrapes on the man’s front. Most oft them are on his chest, with a few adorning his thighs. Lance attends to the latter first because then he can put some pants on him.

After that he cleans the scrapes on the chest, trying not to stare too hard at all the muscles and broad shoulders. Lance’s shirt won’t fit him. While they are similar in height, with the man being a few inches taller, Lance’s frame is more wiry, with the muscles centered on thighs and legs. The raven definitely is broader than him and Lance catches himself wondering if the stranger would have easily lifted him if their roles were switched.

“Bad mind”, he chastises himself and hurries over towards the kitchen corner to get some water and a box with cookies he made the day before. All of that is placed onto the couch table before he gets a slip of paper to write a small message on it.

Hi.

Don’t panic, I found you in the forest.

Couldn’t leave you there.

Feel free to take some of the medicine if needed.

The cookies are home made.

My name’s Lance by the way(*^▽^*)

Right next to the slip he places the ibuprofen. Then he looks back at the guy to make sure his breathing is stable before he stands up and gets ready for bed. He leaves the door of the bathroom open for the guy to find it if necessary.

When he is cuddled up under the soft blankets of his bed he pulls over his phone and types in a message to his best friend.

Picked up a guy in the woods. Naked and unconscious. M gonna sleep now. If I don’t pick up my phone in a few hours get the FBI.

With that taken care of he nestles his cheek against the pillow and finally succumbs to sleep.

When he wakes up some hours later, it’s to the insistent vibration of his phone on his nightstand. With a grumble he grabs it and accepts the call. Before he is able to formulate a greeting, the caller basically screams through the speakers.

_“Are you mad! How can you possibly be so careless and pick up some stranger from the woods? You should have called the police!”_

Lance cringes from the volume and muffles a yawn against his pillow. With bleary eyes he checks the time on the display and groans when he sees that he just got six hours of sleep. “Couldn’t you wait some more before waking me up”, he grumbles and puts the phone on speakerphone mode just in case.

The next rant follows. _“LANCE! That is not funny! Didn’t you watch the latest news about people disappearing from the streets in the neighboring cities?!”_

“This guy was naked, Hunk”, Lance quips back.

_“You brought him home, there are enough objects for him to make a weapon of.”_

Lance rolls his eyes.

_“You’re not giving me an eye-roll, mister.”_

Ugh, Hunk knows him too well.

_“Are you still in bed? What about the stranger? Please tell me you’re not sleeping in the same room?”_

“Of course not, I’m not that naive.”

_“Where is he?”_

“I left him on the couch.”

“Go check, maybe he’s searching for a weapon to murder you right now.”

Lance sighs and crawls out of his bed, bare feet padding over and exiting the room, the hems of his sleeping pants drag over the hardwood floor as he makes his way to the living area. “He’s probably still sleeping. Like I would be if someone just waited a few more—“, Lance stops his tirade when his eyes focus on the couch. The _empty_ couch. “Huh?”

 _“Lance? You dead?”_ When Lance doesn’t answer immediately, and instead decides to check the bathroom and kitchen corner for the guy, Hunk grows panicked. _“Lance answer me or I’ll call the police.”_

“Geeze, calm down. The guy’s gone”, Lance finally reassures after being sure that he’s really alone.

“ _One day you’ll give me a heart attack._ ”

“Hunk, bud, you’re being overly dramatic this early in the morning.” The brunet pads over to the kitchen corner to put the moka pot on the stove.

 _“It’s nearly 12 am”_ , he can hear the deadpan tone in his voice.

Lance gives an eye-roll as he walks over towards the couch and sees something scribbled under his words on the slip of paper.

I’ll send the clothes to your address.

The cookies were delicious.

You shouldn’t bring strangers into your home.

K.

Lance huffs and plops down onto the couch. “He could have at least given me his full name.”

.

.

.

Some weeks later, on an early Monday morning in April, Lance awakes from sleep. His bladder keeps bugging him so he grouchily stands up and pads over to the bathroom. Judging by the warm rays of sunlight shining through the windows of the living area it must be nearly 7 am. After finishing he walks over to the window to gaze out at the lines of trees in the garden. The sky looks beautiful, a mix of red, yellow and blue. For a moment he contemplates getting a blanket and making himself comfortable in the rocking chair, when his eyes spot something out of place in the back of the garden. A figure. Lance squints his eyes and recognizes the shape to be human. And judging by the pale complexion the person is naked.

“Again, really?”, he groans, gets a blanket from the cupboard, slips into his shoes before he unlocks the backdoor and hurries over towards the back of the garden.

Somehow he’s not surprised to come face to face with the stranger he had found last month. It’s _K_ , like he wrote under his note. Or _mullet_ , how Lance decided to call him as he talked about their meeting with Hunk and Pidge, his closest friends.

“The hell is wrong with you, man”, he whispers with a shake of his head as he kneels at his side and wraps the blanket around his naked frame. His eyes make out the path he’d gone through the bushes and notice some strange footprints… or should he say _paw_ prints. _What the…_

Taking a closer look the tracks really look more like that of an animal’s than a human’s. But they are even bigger than Lance’s own feet! How is that possible. There are no bears in these woods. Ruffling through his short locks he swipes his gaze over the darkness behind the bushes before he turns bag towards the man by his feet. It’s still too early for proper thoughts. He’ll just ask _mullet_ tomorrow.

With that set he pulls the body up to half-carry, half-drag him towards his home. He deposits him on the couch like last time. Then he gets clothes for him—the same he had sent back to him weeks ago—and the first-aid kit. Like last time he works on the scratches on his torso and arms. But he stops when he discovers some trails of red around his mouth and over his throat. Squinting in the light the sun provides, he realizes that it’s _blood_.

For a moment he’s too stunned to move, thoughts of calling for the police running through his mind. Hunk had warned him. Hell, even this _mullet_ had warned him.

With a heaving sigh he gets up and retrieves washcloth and a bowl with tepid water to work on softy cleaning him. He makes a face as the water changes its translucent color to red. After some minutes he’s finished and takes a moment to think about his next steps.

Should he really call the cops?

His eyes roam over the relaxed complexion, flawless skin—just that red scar tissue on his right cheek, which does nothing to destroy his handsome features. Those fluffy raven locks splaying out under him, his hair looks so soft and Lance has to stifle the urge to brush his fingers through them.

Nah, if _mullet_ wanted to murder him then he’d have done it the first time he had brought him home.

With that being set he puts the pants on before he covers the body with the blanket. Then he gets the rocking chair from the back porch and places it just right in front of the backdoor on the inside. Cuddling up in a blanket of his own he keeps his gaze on the stranger sleeping like a dead weight. This time he won’t let him get away that easily.

.

A creak in the panels of the hardwood floor snaps him into wakefulness. With a start he pushes himself into an upright position, arms extending out to block any chance to get at the door behind him. His eyes are only half-opened, vision blurry against the onslaught of light which is burning through the window but he’s still able to make out the shape of the man standing a few feet away, frozen in step and starring right back at him.

Lance yawns against his hand before he rubs at an eye with it. “You’re not going anywhere, mullet.” He intended to sound intimidating but with him being a little groggy from falling asleep again, it must have sounded rather amusing judging by the raised eyebrow the other’s giving him.

“You talking to me?” It’s the first time Lance is hearing the guy’s voice and he takes a moment to connect it with the face he’s looking at. It’s also the first time he’s seeing his eyes. From this distance he can only make out their dark color, maybe grey or dark blue.

Ruffling through his short locks, Lance yawns again before he stands up. “Obviously. You didn’t give me your name, and I prefer calling you _mullet_ over _K_ ”, he answers nonchalantly.

The raven pushes his own hand into the mess of black locks, which are even more ruffled from sleep, before he crosses his arms over his chest, making the shirt on him stretch even more on his chest—which Lance absolutely doesn’t get distracted by. He must have put it on when Lance was still asleep. A frown mars his smooth lines. “Have you heard about the term self-preservation instinct?”

Lance lifts a finger and tips it against his chin, faking ignorance. “That must have slipped my mind, I’m only adept in the terms of being self-assured and self-sacrificing…”

A snort leaves the guy’s lips. “I bet you are.”

Lance throws him a wink, his lips curling into a suave smile. “At least I’ve got manners. Hasn’t your mamá taught you that it’s impolite to not introduce yourself?”

“My mom was more focused on teaching me to not bring strangers into my home, especially not if they are naked and in the forest. There are a lot of creeps out there, Lance.”

The brunet shrugs and walks over to the kitchen, feeling the guy’s eyes on him. “Are you?”

The raven lifts an eyebrow. “What?”

After preparing the moka pot, he opens the fridge to pull out ingredients for a late breakfast. “A creep”, he answers finally. He’s surprised at the smirk on the other’s lips.

“Maybe.”

Lance’s reaction to that is bending over the countertop, placing one arm on the surface while he probs the other vertically to cup his cheek with the hand. A coy smile plays on his lips. “I’ve never said no to a pretty face.”

A few seconds tick by before the raven replies, not before uncrossing his arms and hooking his thumbs into the bottom of the pockets of the sweatpants. They were already hanging pretty low on his hips, but the movement makes them dip even lower to expose more of the V-shape. And Lance can’t help but zero-in on that spot. Of course his starring isn’t ignored, as Lance realizes once he manages to trail his gaze back up to meet the guy’s eyes again, only to watch his lips form into a wolfish grin. “If you like to be topped.”

Lance simultaneously chokes on his spit and feels his cheeks flare at that saucy response and hastily turns around to pull the boiling moka pot from the stove. It’s not like he hasn’t _already_ seen him in all his naked glory. He _knows_ that this guy is everyone’s wet dream come true, hell Lance isn’t even opposed to the offer of sex. But first he _needs_ to know why that guy keeps appearing in the forest. He’s definitely hiding something, and putting on that cocky attitude only makes him more suspicious.

“Let’s eat breakfast first. You must be hungry after God knows what doing in the forest. At _night_. _Without_ any clothes. What were you even doing in my garden?” When he turns back he notices the guy mustering the backdoor. “Not a chance.” From his pant pocket he retrieves a key ring. “I’m not letting you go without answers, mullet.”

With a huff, accompanied by an eye-roll, the raven comes over and plops onto the barstool at the other side of the countertop. He watches Lance fill two cups with coffee. “Keith”, he finally revealshis name and takes the offered cup. He blinks up at the beaming smile he receives for finally telling him his name.

“Nice to meet you. You like French toast?”

Keith huffs into the palm of his hand, somehow not able to avoid thinking about Lance being cute with how happy he seems to finally know his name. “That’s alright with me.”

.

While the toasts are sizzling in the pan Lance’s thoughts keep traveling to the stories his abuela has told him in his younger years. Often the stories would contain warnings about werewolves being real and living among them. That Lance should always wear the ring she gave him because no werewolf would be able to touch it. That he should be careful on the nights of the full moon. And the more he remembers the stories she told the more he gets the suspicion that this Keith guy sitting at his table could be part of her tales.

His fingers automatically seek out the ring hanging on a chain around his neck, hidden under the hem of his shirt. His eyes are trained on the pan but out of the corner of his eye he knows that Keith is watching him. Waiting for him to ask his questions. Would he be honest with him? Lance doubts that.

With a flip the toasts land on a plate which Lance puts in front of his guest. “Dig in.”

“Thanks”, Keith is already busy with drizzling the maple syrup on top of them. Lance wrinkles his nose as he watches him dip a slice of bacon in the syrup and stuff it into his mouth.

Yeah, Lance is more fond of the sweet things. While another pair of toasts sizzles he leans back against the counter and sips his coffee. “How old are you anyways?”

“Twenty-four”, Keith answers around a bite, licking away some syrup that stuck to the corner of his lips.

Lance swallows and takes his eyes away again. “Then you’re two years older. Are you working already or studying?”

“Working. Never cared about going to college.” He takes a gulp from his cup. “Didn’t see a car so I assume that you’re studying?”

Lance flips the toasts around before he replies. “Bingo. I usually take the bus to the city.” So he did sniff around the last time he was here.

“Why not move closer to the city? Aren’t you afraid to live that far away from civilization?”

The brunet maneuvers the toasts onto his own plate. And when his eyes trail over towards the other man he’s surprised to see his plate wiped clean. “Uh, want some more?” He offers the ones freshly made and Keith nods eagerly. With a smile on his lips he gives up his portion and makes another one. “This house belonged to my grandparents. After their death my family decided to offer it to me to live here and don’t waste money on an apartment.” After a moment of silence which is only disturbed by the noise of clattering from the flatware and the sizzling of the toasts in the pan, Lance continues with his interrogation. “You’re new to the city, am I right?”

With raised eyebrows Keith nods, swallowing the bite down before answering, “Just moved here some weeks ago.”

Lance hums and goes back to fiddling with the ring which is warm from the heat of his skin. “Areyou gonna eat up all of my toast before you finally tell me what exactly you’re doing in the forest?”

Keith stops eating, eyes fixed on the plate in front of him. “And what if I don’t?”

Lance shrugs and drums his fingers against the counter behind him. “I could still call the cops.”

“No you won’t”, Keith declares, his dark gaze now fixed on him. From this close he can make out the color as blue-grey.

A huff leaves his lips as he moves to flip the toasts. “Yeah, I don’t really feel comfortable to rat others out. But I’m still curious. And I’m even making you breakfast and provided you a place to sleep.” He holds up two fingers, “Two times. Don’t I deserve an accommodation?”

Keith folds his arms onto the countertop and watches him through the fringe of his hair. “Offer still stands.”

The toasts nearly slide over the plate and onto the ground but Lance manages to hold the porcelain upright in the last moment. He throws the other a look over his shoulder. “Are you putting on a show?”

Keith cocks his head to the side. “You mean turning up naked in the night at someone’s door and eating breakfast at their table the morning after?”

“And having sex as a compensation. Yeah.” Lance turns off the stove and grabs the chocolate sauce to garnish his toasts.

“No. Turning up in your backyard wasn’t intentional”, Keith answers flatly as he watches the brunet take a bite from his meal. “I usually don’t have sex with men I don’t feel attracted to.”

Lance gives him a look. “Only men?” When Keith nods as confirmation Lance stuffs another bite into his mouth. “And you only top?”

The corner of his mouth quirks into a smirk. “Depends on the mood I’m in.”

Maybe that whole werewolf stuff was really made up. Lance can’t imagine a big bad werewolf letting himself be dominated... unless if his partner is another werewolf...

“What are you making up in that head of yours?”

Lance meets his gaze and contemplates to just be forward. He lets go of the flatware. “When I was younger my abuela told me stories about humans transforming into monsters during the full moon.” He watches intensely but Keith isn’t moving any muscle, nothing is giving away if Lance’s hunch is correct. “Yesterday night was a full moon. And last month when I found you it was also a full moon...”

This time Keith does react, he props his elbow on the table and leans his cheek against his palm. “And you’re thinking I’m what... a werewolf?” He snorts. “Careless and imaginative, what a combination.”

“So you’re telling me that my abuela made that up?” Lance lifts a hand towards the necklace with the ring, noticing Keith’s eyes following the motion. He seems tense, all playfulness suddenly gone. “You’re calling her a liar.”

“She’s got a colorful mind, that’s what I’m saying.” Suddenly he pushes himself into a standing position. “I should go now.”

In the moment Keith is turning his back on him, Lance pulls the necklace from his neck and reaches for Keith’s arm, but the raven had expected that. In the blink of an eye he had moved his arms out of the way and Lance stumbles forward into him, his hand with the ring pressed in his palm automatically searches for a grip and lands on Keith’s waist, coming into contact with bare skin.

As Lance feels Keith’s hands on his shoulders steadying him he also hears him let out a noise of discomfort. His blue eyes land on the part of skin he touched and when he lifts his palm he’s surprised to see the skin swollen red and looking burned.

 _She was right_ , he thinks the moment he meets Keith’s aggravated expression. _Uh oh._ Lifting the palm with the ring towards the hand on his shoulder makes the raven loosen his grip which in turns lets Lance move around him and bolt towards his bedroom where he keeps his phone.

Pushing through the door he zooms in on the phone on his nightstand but before he’s able to reach it he feels a weight collide with his back. All air is pushed out of his lungs as he’s tackled onto his bed, the heavy weight of Keith’s body pinning him onto his belly and giving him no chance to reach his phone.

“God, you’re heavy”, Lance wheezes and tries to get a grip on Keith again, but the raven snatches the necklace out of his palm and throws it away. Then his wrists are pressed onto the mattress and the weight moves until Keith has his legs pinned under his knees.

Warm breath tickles his ear as the man bends forward and Lance can’t help but shiver at the hot caress. “I thought you didn’t wanna rat me out.”

“That was before you played dumb.” Another attempt of wriggling himself free makes the other lean down further until his front is fully pressed against Lance’s back. And Lance gets a taste of how big a werewolf can be as a human, thanks to Keith just wearing sweatpants and nothing under it. Against better judgement Lance feels arousal tingle in his veins. With a huff he accepts defeat. “What now, mullet. Are you going to kill me after all?”

A low chuckle reverberates against the shell of his ear, making goosebumps rise on his skin. The beat of his heart thrums in his ears as he suddenly feels too hot with Keith pressing himself down on him. Especially when he feels his crotch brush against his ass, the outline of his dick pressing right into the cleft of his cheeks. _God, he’s big._

“Or I could fuck your brains out”, Keith finally whispers and rocks his hips against his ass. Lance has to bite onto his lip to keep in the whimper.

“You’re really adamant about that. Seems like you’ve fallen pretty hard for my charms.” He really hopes he sounds more witty than needy, but the breathlessness accompanying his words tells otherwise.

“You’re pretty full of yourself”, Keith states with another chuckle.

“Says the one who’s grinding his dick against my ass”, Lance quips back.

The raven hums against his ear. “So you want me to kill you instead?”

Lance sputters and turns his head to the side to make eye contact. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’d only accept these two options with you!”

Keith forms his lips into a pout, eyes gleaming. “What a bummer.” And with that he moves off him to recline against the headboard, making himself comfortable with his arms crossed behind his head. His legs splay open and give Lance an eyeful of his crotch. _Half-hard._ Lance swallows and hastily scrambles into a sitting position. His eyes seek out the phone still lying on his table. “Ah ah”, Keith’s warns, takes the phone and stuffs it between his lower back and the pillow he’s leaning against. He gets a glare from the brunet for that move. “Let’s talk.”

“Oh, _now_ you wanna talk”, Lance quips back sarcastically and crosses his arms over his chest.

The raven rolls his eyes. “Don’t get butthurt. You wanted to know why I was in the forest. That’s where I usually go on the night of the full moon. With no humans in vicinity I roam around the woods as a beast.”

“So the blood around your mouth was...”

“ _Animal_ blood”, Keith emphasizes. “I move around a lot but I make sure that the cities I end up in have a big enough forest for me.”

“What do you look like? When you turn. Do you only turn during the full moon?”

Keith cocks his head to the side, lips quirking into a sardonic smirk. “Forget Twilight. I’m not a cute wolf you can cuddle with like a teddy bear.” His smirk widens when he sees Lance trying to hide the sheepish blush on his cheeks. “Only during the full moon. And I’m not conscious. Think back to the older horror movies then you’ll pretty much get the gist. All you need to know is that you should stay away from the forest at night. I haven’t been living here long enough but there’s always the possibility of others like me living here.”

“Okay, noted. No walks in the forest at night.” Lance remembers the paw prints near his garden. “This time you were pretty close to my home. Are you sure that I’m safe?”

“As a werewolf it’s not possible to invade another’s home. In our human forms it’s no problem. So if you stay in your house you will be safe.” When he sees the puzzled look on the brunet’s face he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s like some kind of force is keeping us away. I don’t know how that works. It’s what I was taught.”

For the moment Lance accepts that as an explanation. Then his eyes land on the necklace lying near the door. “Is it possible to for us to identify you in your human forms? Apart from touching you with silver, obviously?”

“Are you planning to get the police after us?”

Lance draws his eyebrows together. “No. I just want to be prepared, I guess. Knowing about you guys existing, but not knowing who’s one is not sitting well with me. Just that. If you don’t trust me...”

“Strangely enough I am trusting you, or else I would have never told you my secret in the first place.” He ruffles a hand through his wild locks. When he notices Lance watching him, he quirks his eyebrow. “Naturally born werewolves have naturally white hair which shines silvery in the light. But nowadays it’s pretty rare to encounter a full-blood.”

“But your hair is black...”

“Because I’m a half-blood. My mother was a full-blood and chose a human as her partner. That makes me a half-blood which means that I didn’t need to get bitten to awaken my wolf side.”

Lance perks up after hearing that. “So _that_ is true, that if you get bitten by a wolf you’ll turn into one?”

Keith hesitates as he rubs the pads of his thumbs together. “You have to be bitten on the nape of your neck and die during the following 24 hours. And the bite has to be done by the beast, not the human part. If I bit you now you wouldn’t transform.”

“Why the dying?”

“Only during your death is the venom strong enough to consume your cells. Your metabolism needs time to accommodate.”

“So, my sympathies…?”, Lance offers hesitantly, adding a meek smile to show he means it friendly.

Keith cocks an eyebrow in question, before he seems to realizes what Lance is referring to. “Oh no, I didn’t have to die. With full-bloods and half-bloods it’s different. _We_ have to kill someone to awaken our slumbering beasts.” As soon as he’s said the words he has to stifle a snort at the comical look on Lance’s face. It’s like he wants to hide the horror he’s feeling right now about discovering that Keith actually killed a human being. “Don’t piss your pants. The guy I murdered had it coming. He was the one who killed my parents.”

His tone is so casual that Lance nearly gets a whiplash from the heaviness of the information he just spilled. “Dude”, he starts and feels his body moving on auto-pilot. Keith is watching with a wariness behind his indifferent expression as he moves closer to wrap his arms around his shoulders and press him against him. A hug. To comfort. “I’m sorry for your loss”, he whispers. The body is tense against him but after some seconds pass he feels the raven relax more into it and wrap his own arms around Lance’s back. “Do you have someone else?”

“I’m on my own. Friends of my mother’s took me in after their death but ultimately I’m alone. I prefer that. I was raised like that.”

“I’m on my own too. My family’s back in Cuba. Not that I’m comparing myself to you... I mean—ah shit”, Lance scrambles for the right words, making Keith chuckle, which the other man doesn’t notice because Keith’s chin is resting on his shoulder. “What I meant to say is that I could offer you a room here, if you would like.”

Lance nearly gets a heart attack when Keith suddenly bursts into a fit of laughter, pulling away to hug his stomach. The brunet just blinks, mouth open, gaping in surprise but also kinda liking how Keith is looking right now. Carefree, not serious, with his long hair and smooth lines he’s got a boyish charm and Lance realizes that he might fall for him if he isn’t careful.

After the laugh is reduced to giggles Lance deems it is better to not show how enamored he is. “What is so funny about that?” He crosses his arms and puts on a pout.

Keith takes a long breath, wiping at his eyes to swipe the tears away, he’s putting on that crooked smirk which makes him look more bad boyish. “I just told you that I turn into a werewolf and have killed someone and you offer me a place to live at? That is the most gullible reaction I’ve ever been confronted with. It even tops picking up strangers and bringing them to your home.”

And this time the hurt expression is not fake. “Fine. If you want me to be hostile.” He makes a grand display of getting off the bed and walking towards the door. “You know your way out.”

The jingle of a key ring makes the brunet take a look back over his shoulder towards Keith, who’s still sitting on his bed and nonchalantly letting the ring swing around his finger. “Didn’t you say the doors are locked?” The raven cocks an eyebrow, sardonic grin on his lips.

Lance curses and stalks over to snatch the keys from him. “I could claim back my clothes”, he snaps aggravated. And regrets his words a second later after seeing the wolfish grin adorning Keith’s lips.

“Oh, if you wanted me naked, you could have just asked.” He grabs the hem of his shirt, lifting it a little and exposing a sliver of pale, very toned, abs. Lance swallows, trying to resist and failing to not stare.

With this posture, and being a werewolf, Keith could probably bench-press him... _Bad mind! Shoo!!_ He curses again and hastily bolts, hearing another laugh from the other man in his back.

.

Later, after Keith had been gone and Lance had gotten ready for afternoon classes, he’s on his way to the bus stop and busy with texting Hunk.

The forest dude was back. Took him in again.

The answer only needs a minute. Lance. Do I have to get Pidge again to show you the cases of murder?

Nah, that guy’s pretty cool. Got to talk to him this time. Lance bites his lip, because he can’t tell Hunk that this guy actually is a werewolf. He promised to keep quiet. Instead he adds, he’s pretty new in town. And I kinda offered him to move into my house.

The moment he hits send, he just knows that he shouldn’t have given away this bit of information to his friend, because how could he possibly explain to Hunk why he offered that in the first place? But relax, I got turned down.

That’s it. I’ll tell Pidge to dig up the nasty ones.

Please nooooo. ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚

.

.

.

A month passes and Lance catches himself wondering about Keith on the day of the full moon in May. The other man hasn’t turned up after their last encounter, only placing Lance’s clothes on his doorstep when Lance had classes. He hasn’t gotten his contact information and doesn’t now where he works. That should be hint enough to just forget about that guy but strangely enough he can’t forget him. Even after Hunk made true on his words and got Pidge to show him horrendous articles about women and men being slaughtered in their homes. He didn’t ask where Pidge got the material from. She’s a computer nerd, so he refrains from asking questions in fear she’ll talk endlessly about her beloved informatics.

But back to the topic at hand. Here he is, standing in the threshold of his backdoor and gazing at his garden, the sunset already setting in. Somewhere behind those line of trees Keith will be roaming around. And if Lance got lucky he would end up back in his garden.

With an exasperated huff, and shaking his head in pity for himself, he goes back to the retrieve the small tent he had stored in the extra room. Just right at the border of his garden he sets it up and gets a spare pillow and blanket to stuff them inside, additionally a bottle with water. Then he goes back inside and closes the door, leaving it unlocked.

.

The next morning when his alarm clock rings he groggily makes his way into the kitchen, preparing the moca pot and contemplating between cereal and porridge. He chooses the later because he craves something warm for his stomach. While everything is cooking he goes towards the backdoor to let some fresh air inside.

His eyes automatically seek out the tent in the garden and against the rays of the rising sun blinding him he can see that somebody’s indeed occupying the tent.

He can’t help but keep smiling the whole hour during breakfast.

.

Later, when he’s lounging on his couch with his laptop on his lap working on an assignment, the backdoor opens. When Lance looks up, a greeting in his lips, he nearly lets out a shriek instead, just managing to not push his laptop off his lap in the process. “Jesus Christ, why are you standing here _naked_? Put on some clothes!”

“It’s not like you haven’t seen me like this before”, Keith counters nonchalantly, ruffling through his sleep-tousled hair.

Lance’s mouth opens and closes like a fish gaping out of water. That gets him an amused chuckle from the raven before his motor abilities get working again and he throws the pillow at the other man. “You weren’t conscious then.”

“Oh, and that makes it better?”

Lance’s cheeks flare. “Of course _not_. But it wasn’t my intention to check you out. I intended to help!”, Lance defends himself.

“Want another chance?”

For a moment the brunet is more confused than embarrassed which quickly changes again because of Keith nonchalantly stepping further inside and giving Lance enough chance to check him out. The second pillow flying towards him, Keith reflects with the pillow in his hands. “Just take a damn shower, you nudist!”

With a laugh the raven strolls over towards the bathroom. And Lance is able to relax back again when he isn’t confronted with all of Keith’s naked glory.

“You’re cute when you blush like that.” The words suddenly whispered against his ear make the brunet shriek. This time the laptop falls off his lap and he jerks forward to snatch it before it can crash onto the ground.

“Jesus, _Keith!_ ”, he hollers after the raven who disappears into the safety of the bathroom, dark laugh booming behind him until it turns into muffled noises after he shuts the door.

Lance lets out a deep sigh and lets his head roll back against the cushion. His heart is still beating too fast for his liking.

.

.

.

The next time Lance makes sure to pack some clothes into the tent and luckily—for his poor heart—Keith does wear them when he enters through the backdoor a month later. It’s June and gotten way warmer than when Lance first met him, so he provided shorts instead of sweatpants.

“Hungry?”, Lance asks from behind the kitchen counter, already busy with mixing up a dough for pancakes. A package with slices of bacon is lying next to the stove. Lance figured that Keith prefers something hearty to the sweetness.

“Yeah, sure”, Keith answers, not concealing the yawn as he flops down onto the barstool.

Lance offers a smile which freezes a second later when he spots the blood around Keith’s lips and on his throat. “It still takes a few minutes. Don’t you wanna maybe _wash_ your hands... and some other parts?”

Keith blinks before he seems to get what Lance is referring to. “Ah, sorry. I guess I caught something big.”

“I thought you aren’t conscious?”

“I get some snippets. They’re blurred”, he explains as he pushes himself off the stool. “What I do remember is feeling sated.” That are the last words before he closes the door after himself.

.

“Wouldn’t it be better if you deposit your clothes here before you hide in the forest? It would spare you getting here again to bring mine back”, Lance suggests after Keith has finished eating. They’re currently lounging on his couch, watching some tv show.

So far Keith hasn’t made a move to leave like he usually does after eating something. And Lance can’t help the small sliver of hope blooming in his chest that maybe the other might want to spend more time with him. “You could store them on the back porch“, he adds when Keith has yet to reply.

He’s surprised when the raven suddenly grabs the remote and turns off the tv. “Why do you keep doing this?”

Lance blinks at the serious look on his face. “Why do _you_ keep appearing in my garden?”

“I’m serious, Lance. The first time it was out of charity, the second maybe too. But after that? I told you what _I am_ and you still keep being nice. You even put up a _tent_ in your garden and make me _breakfast_.”

Lance shrugs, offering an innocent smile. “Because that’s what I am. I like looking out for others and taking care of them. I was raised with four siblings.”

Keith cocks an eyebrow, lips forming a grimace. “So you’re seeing me as a replacement? A brother?”

Lance feels the blood drain from his face. He scrambles for a proper seat, back straight and returning his gaze fully. “No, I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Then how am I supposed to think about you being this hospitable?” Keith himself is sitting up properly. “People usually don’t treat strangers like friends.”

“Don’t you want to be... friends?” Lance cringes internally at the hopeful tilt in his voice. Is it so obvious that he basically yearns for his feelings being reciprocated?

His hope falls when the other scoffs. “You wanna be friends. With me? A _werewolf?_ ”

Another helpless lift of his shoulders. “Why is it so bad to want that?”

“Because I usually don’t stay overly long in places. At most a few years, but then I’ll be gone again. Doesn’t feel that hard if you have nobody to miss.” His tone is casual, devoid of any feelings of remorse, yet Lance gets the feeling that behind that tough facade this guy is putting on is just a lone guy who longs for humanly closeness. Who probably hasn’t felt that after his parents’ death.

Without helping it Lance feels tears well up in his eyes and if the situation wasn’t so precarious he’d have laughed at the comical look on Keith’s face when he sees him tearing up.

“Have you never seen someone cry?”, Lance asks, huffing out a laugh as he wipes at the moisture escaping his eyes. He hopes to sound lighthearted in fear of freaking the other even more out and making him bolt. It’s nice to finally talk properly.

To his surprise Keith does the opposite of expected, he moves closer and lifts a thumb to wipe a stray line of tears from his cheek. “I’ve never seen someone cry _for_ me” Lance can see the honesty in his expression, can see vulnerability in the depths of his eyes. These beautiful grey eyes.

It’s the first time Keith really has put his walls down, which he always keeps up to protect himself. The aloofness or cockiness were just acts. And because of that the urge to cry only grows stronger. So before he can turn into some crybaby in front of him, Lance leans forward to press his face against Keith’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his neck and holding onto him.

For the first seconds Keith’s posture is rigid, too stunned by his sudden act of intimacy. But the warmth provided by Lance—and the wetness from his tears on his skin and shirt—convince him that this isn’t an insincere act, that _this is_ how Lance really feels. He isn’t scared of him, he won’t spill his secret...

With a defeated huff Keith wraps his own arms around Lance, a hand cradling the back of his head while the other splays on the spot between his shoulder blades.

.

.

.

After that talk they had exchanged phone numbers, which pushed their relationship status up to friends. Lance found it entertaining to chat with Keith over the course of the month.

When he had told Hunk about that, his friend had shaken his head in defeat and luckily stopped Pidge from digging up further cases of murder to persuade him. Lance had felt victorious but had also needed to promise Hunk that he would always inform him if he changed his mind and became uneasy in Keith’s company.

When the time for the next full moon would come around, Keith suggested they could meet up during his lunch break in a coffee shop. They had lunch together, talked and after it had been time for Keith to get back to his work place Lance had taken the bag with clothes and toiletries from him.

When the sun is setting Lance sets up the tent in the garden, praying that the dark clouds won’t turn into a downpour. The tent might be waterproof but still… Lance can’t imagine that Keith will like to sleep in it drenched like a dog.

For that case he adds a towel to the pillow and blanket.

.

In the morning Lance awakens to the booming crack of thunder. Heart beating like he has run a marathon for the first few seconds until he realizes the cause for waking up. Rubbing over his sweaty face—it’s really stuffy in his bedroom at the beginning of July—he walks over to the window to open it, until he realizes that it might not be a wise idea. With eyes a little bleary from sleep he makes out an actual _storm_ raging outside; the wind is so strong that it’s pressing the rain against the glass. And Lance definitely doesn’t want to transform his room into a pool.

With that thought in mind, he takes a look at the clock on his phone and hastily makes his way towards the living room. The big window provides a view of the storm and with his mouth gaping open he stares at the pathetic heap that is left of the tent. It’s collapsed and drenched. But more important, no shape of a human is visible under the material. Which means Keith didn’t come. _Is he still out there?,_ he thinks and panic rises, destroying every thought of going back to sleep.

Before he’s able to further contemplate what to do, a _thud_ from right outside the backdoor draws his attention. Immediately he pulls the door open and nearly lets out a shriek. Just outside Keith is lying on the ground of the back porch, covered in mud which is running in rivulets down his body and dirtying the floor. Judging by the curved position Keith must have been leaning against the wall until the wind has pushed him over hence the sound beforehand.

With a heavy sigh Lance makes his way to the bathroom to retrieve towels and a sleeping mat. Then he sets to work getting Keith wrapped in the towels like a burrito—Lance hasn’t got the nerves to clean him right now and he definitely doesn’t want to get his hardwood floor dirty—before he manhandles him onto the sleeping mat.

He cushions his head on a folded towel and surveys his handiwork. Nodding contentedly he goes to wash his hands before he returns to the coziness of his bed, cuddling his face into his fluffy pillow and slipping back into blissful sleep.

.

He wakes again to the sound of someone rolling down with a familiar _thud_ and muffled curses. What follows next is a hollered “Lance” which has the mentioned brunet sitting up in his bed, hair absolutely mussed from sleep and blinking in confused panic until another hollered call of his name prompts him to move out of the bed—and nearly falling face first onto the hardwood floor because of overlooking that his legs are still tangled up in the sheet.

“For the love of— _stop_ yelling!”, he screams back as he tries to get his legs free. _It’s definitely too early for that shit_ , he thinks darkly and jumps up to run into the living room where he spots Keith rolling around in his burrito like prison of towels. If not for the murdering look the raven is throwing at him Lance would have burst into a fit of laughter. But yeah, Keith looks absolutely murderous and angering a werewolf is not on Lance’s bucket list.

“Get me the fuck outta here!”, Keith growls and wriggles some more.

 _Don’t laugh don’t laugh_ , he chants in his mind and bites onto his lower lip to keep the smile off his face. Keith’s eyebrows draw further down and Lance hastily walks over to help the other man get out.

Lance grimaces when flakes of dried mud crumble onto the floor. And here he was hoping to _not_ have to clean the floor up after Keith. “Could you maybe be careful to not make everything dirty?”, he pleads half heartedly.

Keith seems to realizes just then in what state he is. “Oh, sorry. I’ll clean up after showering”, he promises. “Why did you bring me in in the first place?”

Lance huffs and stands back up, gesturing towards the big window where they can see the miserable state the tent is in. Lance still has a tiny hope it can be repaired. “Were you conscious enough to realize the storm around you? Geez, rain everywhere. And the wind. It looked like doomsday.”

Keith cocks his head to the side and grimaces when his hair rustles with the motion. God, even his hair is covered in mud. “I guess I remember it being wet and cold. And somehow I must have walked over here. I can’t remember crawling into the tent.”

“I caught you lying outside the door. I dragged you inside because I couldn’t leave you out there”, Lance explains as he makes himself comfortable on the floor, leaning back against the side of the couch. “I can’t imagine how you managed that before you came here. That must suck, especially during rainstorms and winter?”

Keith shrugs and wraps the towel firmer around himself when he notices more dirt falling off him. “You get used to it. We’ve got higher body temperature so the cold doesn’t bother me that much.”

The brunet doesn’t call him out on that lie. Instead he lets his head fall back against the couch. “Next time you’re here, I can’t make you breakfast. I got a job in the new Diner that is going to open up next month. And I need to take the morning shift because of my afternoon classes. I know the next full moon is on a Saturday, but that’s the opening weekend, so I offered to take the shifts.”

Lance catches the minuscule change in Keith’s expression before the other is able to hide behind a stoic mask. “Guess this one’s the last time, huh. Thanks for your hospitality.”

The brunet shoots a hand out to grab the other’s arm. “Wait. I didn’t mean that you should stop coming. You can still use my home. I was just informing you that I might not be present when you wake up.”

Keith’s eyebrows lift towards his hairline. “So you still want me in your home?”, he asks in disbelief. When Lance confirms with a nod, he snorts. “You manage to surprise me every time.”

Lance cocks his head. “Is that good or bad?”

The smirk on Keith’s face makes his heart leap in his chest. “Good. I mean, it’s nice to spend time with... a friend.” The last word is spoken hesitantly. Like he still can’t really believe that someone like him could find a friend.

“Yup, we’re _friends_. And that’s why it is alright for you to use my home. I trust you.”

With that said Lance stands up with the intent to get breakfast ready, but without a warning Keith suddenly grabs his arm and pulls him down. With a shriek Lance stumbles over his own feet and falls forward, right onto Keith who managed to catch him and roll them around so that Lance is pushed on his back and looking up at him, Keith hovering over him.

“Keith?”, Lance asks perplexed, and a little out of breath from his fall. He wants to rub at his head but his wrists are pressed against the ground, with no chance of moving them.

“Why are you so sure that I won’t do something to you? How can you be so careless? Didn’t your parents teach you better? Even your grandma warned you about us!” The harsh tone in which the words are spoken make Lance wince. Because Keith is right, he was taught to be more careful. And yet, he just knows that Keith isn’t someone he’s claiming to be.

Sighing, Lance rubs the back of his head against the sleeping mat. And just then realizes that Keith probably intended to pin him against it and not right onto the bare hardwood floor. That would have hurt pretty much. A breathless laugh escapes his lips as he watches the raven shoot a glare at him. “If you wanna be the big bad wolf, you shouldn’t be so focused on making it comfortable for me”, he wiggles his body to show him that he noticed.

The hard expression falters, fingers twitching around his wrists. With a frustrated growl Keith pushes himself off and storms over towards the bathroom, leaving flakes of dirt behind.

Lance wants to shout a complaint when he notices the dirt on himself. _Ugh_. _Stupid mullet._

.

.

.

The August heat reminds him of home, which raises his mood as he takes a last look out the window of the living room towards the tent, where Keith is lying inside. He can make out his shape. Thanks to it being summer, the sun is already rising when he exits his house and gets on his bike to ride to work. He’s looking forward to the next job, because he likes to talk to people and seeing their happy faces when he serves them food. Which is exactly one of the reasons why he keeps offering Keith breakfast. He won’t think about the other. Not now. Maybe never.

Keith still has problems with accepting him as his friend, therefore Lance won’t mention his interest in him. He’d probably just tell him again that he’s a monster and that Lance shouldn’t harbor any kind of feelings for him. Blah, blah.

.

When he comes home he finds a plate with a grilled sandwich under a plastic wrap and a small note.

That was way overdue. K.

Lance rolls his eyes. Even in his notes and texts Keith’s always serious. He pulls out his phone and writes him a text. Thanks, looking forward to it. Serving all that food made me hungry (රڡර人)

When he opens the plastic wrap he’s surprised to find out that the sandwich is actually still pretty warm. Which means that Keith has made it pretty recently.

His phones chimes from a new message. Check the fridge.

Lance follows suit and finds a jug with lemonade. He smiles and pulls it out.

He gets a tray and a glass, fills it and carries everything outside to sit on the rocking chair. With his meal on the table next to him he relaxes back.

 _You could’ve stayed_ , is what he wants to write but then he deletes and replaces it with, thanks. Maybe next time you can make me food when I’m present (。•̀ᴗ-)✧

He takes a bite from the sandwich, savoring the mixed flavors of raw ham, half-melted cheese, grilled eggplant and rocket. It’s really tasty. And after all that walking around he definitely needs that.

K: Don’t be greedy.

L: (;*△*;) you could come eat breakfast at the Diner when I got the next shift

K: I don’t really like to eat out. Usually order take-away.

L: wow, has somebody told you that you’re as social as a stone

K: Greedy and insulting. Bad condition.

L: m(_ _)m

K: Eat before it gets too cold.

L: How long did you stay?

K: Not long.

L: Liar

When nothing follows Lance places the phone on the table and focuses on eating. The happy smile not subsiding one bit.

.

.

.

September. It’s not that hot anymore, but it’s still stifling inside the house. Today his classes were called off thus he’s got time in the afternoon. Humming to himself while he changes from the work clothes into this own, he writes a text to Keith in-between.

Hey, got time right now. Are you still working? If not maybe we could meet up for an early dinner? After sending he remembers that Keith told him that he doesn’t like to eat out. Or I could make something at home?

After sending the second message he finishes changing and exits the staff room to say goodbye to the others. His phone doesn’t chime right away, so he assumes that Keith is still working. He decides to get some ingredients for dinner. On his way back he checks his phone again but Keith hasn’t written back yet, he hasn’t even read the texts.

Lance’s mood falls.

.

Back at home he starts to prepare the dish, black spaghetti with salmon in a cream sauce.

When the food is almost ready his phone finally makes a noise. It’s a text from Keith. But the smile soon fades once he reads the content.

Sorry, I’m not spending the night in town.

That’s all.

 _What the hell,_ he thinks, frustration clearly written on his face. He wants to write something back but halts as he remembers what Keith once told him. That he doesn’t stay long. That there are others like him that killed his parents. That he killed the murderer of his parents.

Maybe someone of them saw him today. Maybe that is why Keith won’t be here tonight. Because he doesn’t want to endanger Lance.

With a churning feeling in his stomach he finally writes, be careful. And it would be nice if you write me when you’re back.

He doesn’t get a text back.

.

.

.

Sorry for last time.

Lance looks up from the essay, he’s been working on for the past hour. It’s the first text Keith has sent after last month. Lance isn’t resentful, but he still feels disregarded. Hurt. He has told himself not to get his hopes up and urge Keith towards something he won’t feel comfortable with. But the heart does what it wants. And that is wanting to spend more time with Keith, get to know him better, be closer to him.

With a frustrated groan, he pushes the lid of his laptop closed and puts it onto the coffee table before he goes over towards the kitchen corner to make himself a cup of coffee. He needs the whole evening for the essay to finish it, therefore he needs the coffee as an energy booster.

While he waits he eyes the phone lying on the table. He shouldn’t reply. Because Keith didn’t deem it necessary to get in touch for the last weeks.

Another chime from an incoming text. Lance frowns as he goes over to look, curiosity too strong.

I just wanted to inform you that I won’t be staying here any longer. Today’s full moon is the last. Thanks for taking care of me. And sorry again for causing trouble.

His heartbeat starts to increase. What does that mean? Is he going to move away? Why?

With a few clicks he operates the phone to call Keith. Two rings follow before he other accepts the call.

“What do you mean _last time?_ ”, he asks even before Keith is able to form some words in greeting.

For a second there’s just silence, only the sound of heavy breathing being heard from the other end. And Lance fears that something has happened. But then Keith’s deep voice is replying, _“I’m moving away, Lance.”_ Just that.

The moca pot steams and Lance moves over to pull it away from the hotplate. “Did you meet another werewolf?”

It takes another few seconds before Keith answers. Why the pauses? _“Yes.”_

“Are you alright? Is this why you didn’t spend the last full moon here?”

 _“Yes”_ , again that word in that pressed tone.

Lance is not that clueless. “Yeah, you don’t sound very convincing”, he drawls as he walks over to the bathroom to get the first-aid kit. “After everything that you’ve told me, _now_ you choose to lie?” In his room he finds a bag where the kit fits inside; from the cupboard in the hallway he retrieves a big flashlight; and a bottle of water from the kitchen. A quick look to the display informs him that the battery is high enough on his phone. “Where are you right now?” He’s pulling on his shoes right now, having the phone tucked between his cheek and shoulder.

 _“You’re not coming”_ , Keith’s voice presses through the speaker. _“It’s too dangerous.”_

“Don’t tell me what to do. I’ve patched you up enough times. Besides—”, he checks the time on the clock on the wall, ”it’s still enough time before you’ll turn. From the sound of your breathing I’m assuming that this wasn’t a fist fight.”

In the minute Keith takes to answer Lance has pulled his jacket on and is shouldering his bag. _“He had a knife”_ , he finally reveals and Lance’s breath hitches.

“Where did he get you?” The backdoor falls shut behind him as he rushes out, the flashlight turned on and illuminating the path in front of him. In his hurry he doesn’t want to stumble over a root or rock.

_“Stomach. I left the blade inside. Just have to wait until I turn. It’ll heal.”_

“You’ll be lucky if you don’t bleed out before that happens”, Lance counters darkly.

A sigh, followed by a cough and a groan—probably because the coughing pulled at the wound. _“Please don’t tell me that you’re in the forest.”_ In his tone Lance can tell that Keith doesn’t really believe that he’ll get a negative answer.

“From where did you enter the forest? And how long did you walk?” Lance asks after a few steps.

_“From the city’s side. Maybe twenty minutes. I wasn’t in a hurry. Can’t really run right now, hurts too much.”_

“Keith! Why the hell didn’t you call me sooner? Why didn’t you come to my house?” Lance curses some more while he takes the path that he assumes will lead him towards Keith.

Before Keith is able to reply the call is suddenly disconnected. With a curse Lance checks his phone, but he still got cell reception. He tries for another call but it goes straight to voicemail.

“Fuck”, he curses. “Why now?”

He stops for a moment to take a calming breath before he sends a text to Hunk. Got into another situation. If you don’t hear from me in the morning then I might be in trouble.

He knows Hunk will probably freak out again, he might even come to check up on him. Lance grimaces. That will be something he’ll face tomorrow. First he has to get to Keith in time.

The leaves crunch under the soles of his shoes as he carefully makes his way through the bushes. For the umpteenth time Lance clicks on his phone to check if he got any new messages, but Keith hasn’t written anything after their call was disconnected. And Lance knows that Keith is in more trouble than he let on.

So here he is, on the night of the full moon, which will hit its peak in less than two hours, alone in the dark forest, doing what Keith has warned him not to do. It’s dumb because Keith isn’t the only one of his kind and Lance only has his heavy flashlight as a potential weapon to use against anyone who could attempt to harm him. And he guesses that his self-defensive classes won’t help him in a fight against a fully transformed werewolf. Whatever they look like. _Fuck_.

_Why am I doing this again? This is suicide._

Because he _cares_. He cares about that stupid mullet, who rarely smiled at his jokes, or trusted him enough to talk more about his past. But yeah, Lance came to like him nonetheless. Because he isn’t one of those guys who just wants him for his good looks.

And he even doesn’t care that Keith isn’t normal.

Finally after some more unsteady steps through the impassable terrain he reaches a small clearing surrounded by a lot of trees which block out most of the remaining light. Lance has to swing his flashlight along the line of trees to get a feeling of how large the clearing is.

When he steps onto the free earth he takes a breather and reaches for the bottle of water to drink some. Then he checks the clock. He’s been wandering for twenty minutes and still hasn’t found Keith. Slowly the thought blooms in his mind that maybe he should turn around and get back. If really there are more people like Keith here Lance won’t do himself any good with wandering blindly through the forest.

“I’m so dumb”, he mumbles and nearly gets a heart attack when he hears shuffling from behind the line of trees. _Oh fuck._

He stays stock still, not daring to even let out a small huff of air.

For a few seconds there’s nothing but the gentle sound of leaves swishing in the wind and Lance slowly carries on with breathing, but then there’s a scraping sound of boots against earth and Lance definitely knows that he’s not alone anymore.

Against his better judgement—and his mind which is chanting _run run run_ —he opens his mouth and addresses the direction from which the sound came from. “I know that you’re there, show yourself.” He really hopes that he sounds braver than he feels right now.

The answer is a muffled snort. “Not so brave anymore, huh.”

Lance points the light cone to the spot where the voice had come from and detects part of black hair. His heart leaps, he’s found Keith. “I’m not afraid, if you’re implying that”, Lance counters as he moves towards the spot, making sure not to stumble over a root. “It’s not like I actually like to spend my time in the forest.”

When he finally comes to a stop in front of the other man, who’s sitting with his back resting against the tree trunk, his breath hitches when he sees the deep red on his shirt. “Fuck, mullet!” Lance falls to his knees in front of the other, putting the bag in front of him to get the kit out. “Why the hell did you fight?”

It’s already dark so Keith’s face is only partly visible in the glow of the flashlight. But what Lance can see is a sweat soaked, exhausted frown. His chest is heaving, blood clings to his hands, part of his shirt is torn, his pants are dirty. “I told you not to come.”

Lance pulls on some gloves before he ushers the raven to spread his legs so that Lance is able to scoot closer between them. “If you had come straight away to my house you could have rested. Why didn’t you come?” His eyes are trained on the wound at his side, the blade of the knife reflecting the glow of the flashlight. It’s sticking in his left side. At least it’s not bleeding that much. Which means that the blood on Keith’s hands isn’t entirely is own.

“If I pull it out now and apply a compression bandage, would you hang on until you turn?”

Keith is returning his look, grey eyes dark but glinting ominously. “What time is it? My phone died.”

“Probably something after ten.” Lance lifts a gloved hand towards the wound to gingerly prod around the pierced flesh. Keith hisses at the contact but doesn’t flinch away. A small amount of blood oozes out from the movement. “It should bleed more”, Lance states with a question to his tone.

“It’s because of our mutated cells. We heal faster than normal humans”, Keith explains. His head falls back with _thud_ against the trunk. He grimaces when some bangs stick to his eyes from the movement. Lance notices and helpfully pushes the offending strands away. “Thanks”, he mumbles and stares at the brunet. “Do it now, before it’s too late. I don’t want you to be here when I turn.”

Lance nods and gets everything ready. Before he pulls the knife out he declares, “You owe me some good food. Let’s go out on a date on Saturday.”

Keith is so stunned by that statement that he forgets for a second what Lance is about to do. The sudden sting from the knife being pulled out within a few seconds makes his heartbeat pick up, the pain shooting through every nerve of his system. A pained groan makes it over his lips, his arms twitch in a reaction to hold onto the pulsing spot but Lance pushes out his elbows to deflect his hands. Instead Keith’s blood stained fingers get a grip around his upper arms and hold on.

Lance winces from the pressure but doesn’t stop focusing on the wound, pressing gauze onto the wound after half a minute, which rapidly starts getting soaked by the deep red blood. “I’ll give you some water when I’m finished”, he says.

“Just hurry up”, Keith says between grit teeth. He knows that he shouldn’t hold on so tight onto Lance but right now he needs something to hold onto to get his mind off the urge to claw at his wound.

Lance presses an iodine drenched pad onto the wound, fixates it with some tape before he starts to wrap the bandages around his waist. It’s a little tricky with Keith leaning that heavily against the trunk and Lance has to command him to lean forward, which also urges the wound into bleeding more, but ultimately after some minutes Lance finishes with the treatment.

He pulls off the sodden gloves and retrieves the bottle of water from the bag. He takes a few gulps himself before he offers it to the other man, free hand moving behind Keith’s neck to help him with drinking. It happens slowly, Keith opening his lips and taking small gulps, while sweat runs down his face. Pain is written all across his face, but he doesn’t make a sound of protest. Lance is patient in his nursing, giving Keith the chance to breathe between drinking.

He’s aware of the trembling of Keith’s hands, of the mess of blood on his jacket, of the possible bruises Keith’s fingers are creating on his skin. But he pushes all that aside. It’s more important to keep Keith conscious.

When the raven moves his head to the side, Lance understands that he’s had enough. He closes the lid and puts the bottle aside. He attempts to scoot away and give Keith some space but the legs around him suddenly push up against his sides, urging him to lean close again. “Keith?”, he asks as he makes eye contact, but it’s too dark to make out something on his face. Only the ragged breathing tells him that Keith is coherent. Lance’s hand returns to its former position against Keith’s neck and starts to massage the rigid muscles. “You have to talk to me, buddy”, he tries again to coax out an answer. Instead he feels the hands on his arms shift towards his shoulders. He’s being guided closer.

When their lips meet Lance feels his nerves tingle from the touch; Keith’s mouth is hot against his own, lips chapped from biting onto them. His hand on Keith’s neck guides him to tip his head to the side to better fit their mouths together.

The hands on his shoulders start their descend, over his shoulder blades and his sides, pressing there, until they come to a stop on his hips. Even through the material of his jacket and shirt Lance can feel the pressure. It makes his spine tingle. With a gasp he pulls away, Keith needs the air the most right now. He can’t risk getting him dizzy from lack of air.

“You have to go”, Keith whispers, voice strained. His neck is wet from sweat, his body radiating heat like a furnace. If he’s running a fever the wound is infected.

Lance can’t leave him alone. “I will manage. I can’t just leave you there knowing you will be gone tomorrow. I have to make sure that you stay alive before you turn.”

The question burns inside him, why the kiss? As a goodbye? Lance only knows that he wants to kiss him again. It feels good to be in his arms, being this close. He likes it.

His fingers play with the strands at the nape of Keith’s neck. The thumbs rub over Lance’s waist, the heat from the hands burns even through his clothes. With the coldness around them he doesn’t mind being enwrapped in Keith’s warmth.

The tip of a nose presses against the underside of his jaw as Keith maneuvers him to sit on his lap, legs bracketing Keith’s hips. The brunet is careful to not touch the injury. Keith’s breath is warm and tickles the side of his neck, making goosebumps rise. “I like your smell”, Keith mumbles the words against his neck, mouthing at the exposed skin.

Lance whimpers when he suddenly feels the wet drag of a tongue lap at his skin. “Keith”, he breathes out, the hand that was gripping Keith’s neck now fists into the locks to angle Keith’s head upward and meet Lance’s worried eyes. “You shouldn’t move that much.”

“Lance, you’re in danger. I—“, his sentence is interrupted by Lance pressing a finger against his lips.

“I’m not leaving until I’m sure you’ll not bleed out.” Up this close Lance believes to see a red glint in those dark eyes, but he’s not sure.

“Then you have to distract me”, Keith declares before he closes the distance between for another kiss, this one more urgent than the first. He opens his lips to poke with his tongue against Lance’s, demanding entrance, which Lance grants after some seconds of contemplating what the other could mean with ”keeping him occupied”. He wants to ask, but Keith is busy with exploring his mouth with his tongue. And his hands are pressing him even closer, angling his hips until Lance is able to feel the forming bugle in Keith’s pants. It’s the answer Lance has searched for.

After some time he manages to pull away from the kiss, luckily Keith is also in need of breathing.It’s the chance Lance needs. “If we have sex right now, will it keep you from turning?”

“It will slow the process. You have to choose. That or you go now.”

Lance lifts a sarcastic eyebrow. “What’s with you and those unnatural choices? Why is it always sex or die?”

A half-hearted snort escapes the raven as he watches him. “I’m about to turn into a _werewolf_ , nothing about me is normal.”

“What have I gotten myself into?” Lance laments in fake wonderment. It’s not like he’s entirely opposed to getting intimate with Keith. The place could be better, like his bed or his couch, or every other place _in_ his home. Where it is not cold. Where there isn’t the treat of Keith turning into a werewolf and killing him.

“I told you to leave me alone”, Keith argues, probably feeling attacked. Despite his words, he’s still clinging onto him and Lance assumes that it’d would be really hard for him to let go of him if Lance really said that he wanted to go now.

Instead of a retort Lance lowers his head to nuzzle at the side of Keith’s neck, that idiot is just wearing a shirt. Despite Keith’s strong smell of sweat and blood Lance feels calm in his hold. He feels Keith’s hands trail down to his buttocks, cups the globes through Lance’s sweatpants and squeezes as he guides Lance’s hips to continue grinding down against his bulge.

Keith’s nose retakes its position at the side of his neck, tongue pushed out to lick at the skin he can reach.

Lance decides to get rid of his jacket, even if he regrets it as soon as his bare arms come in contact with the cold air. A shiver runs over his frame, which he’s not able to overact. “I don’t want you to get sick”, Keith mumbles and starts to rub his back to get warmth on him.

Lance sighs and presses his chest against Keith’s, trying to focus on the sensation of their clothed erections rocking together and Keith’s hands on his back. “That’s what I’ve got you for. You’re like a furnace, mullet.”

A small growl rumbles through the chest under him making him jerk in surprise. With wide eyes he regards the man under him. That noise sounded a lot like what a dog could make. Or wolf.

“Stop calling me that”, Keith grumbles and nuzzles back against Lance’s newly exposed neck. “I really hate it when you call me that.” When the lapping of a tongue is joined by the nibbling of sharp teeth, Lance gets that Keith is very serious.

He buries his fingers back in the locks and pulls a little to signal that Keith’s being too harsh with the nipping. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop that.” After some more seconds pass, in which Keith laps some more, Lance asks, “What about _wolf boy_?”

The answer is a very harsh nip at the junction of neck and shoulder. Lance cries out in pain and forcefully pushes the other away. “What the—Keith that _hurt!_ ”, he scolds and double blinks when he sees something dark staining his lip. Because of the throbbing of the spot Lance realizes that he just got _bitten_. For a second panic rises inside him, until he remembers Keith telling him that it needs a bite on the _nape_ of a neck to get turned.

“Sorry”, Keith mumbles, tongue slipping out to lick up the liquid on his lip. His voice is deeper, rough around the edge and Lance gets he feeling that it’s not because of the injury.

The brunet pushes the uneasiness to the back of his mind and focuses back on the heat of Keith’s body and the pressure of his hands. His heart rate picks up when he cups Keith’s face and retraces his lower lip with his thumb, watching him nuzzle against his hand. That affectionate display is so out of character that Lance silently swoons. He’s got a weak spot for cuteness.

“I wanna touch you”, Keith mumbles against the inside of his wrist, lips forming a butterfly kiss on the skin there. He’s probably able to feel his rapidly beating pulse there.

Lance feels his cheeks heat up from the wanton note in which the words were spoken. He can just imagine what Keith might look like right now. Eyes nearly black with how much the pupils have expanded and swallowed the iris; lips half opened to expose teeth that are way sharper than a human’s—Lance knows because he felt the sting of them on his skin. Oh how he yearns to be able to see in the dark.

The hands on his waist twitch and pull Lance out of his thinking. _Oh, yeah the blood_ , he thinks and reaches behind him for the bag to retrieve the bottle of water. “We could try to wash some away”, he offers, despite knowing that Keith needs more than half a bottle to get his hands clean from the blood.

The raven nods, “You can take my shirt to wipe it off.”

Lance helps him pull it over his head and pours the water over the outstretched hands. Somehow most of it gets washed and wiped away and Lance grimaces at the ruined shirt but at least he doesn’t feel that uneasy when Keith’s hands now touch his bare skin.

“Sorry, you have to do that”, Keith whispers after catching his look.

The brunet throws everything to the side before he starts to rummage in the bag. “It was self-protection, right?” When he finds the items he was looking for, he looks back up.

Keith’s eyes are trained on the items in his hands. Lance blushes. “It’s not that I packed them today. I took the bag to some party in case I needed to stay overnight and maybe find someone to bang.”

“You didn’t”, Keith states, wrapping his arms back around Lance’s back to pull him flush against him, hiding the wince that movement induced.

“Careful”, Lance chides and softly taps at the bandages, they’re not wet. “And no, I didn’t.” He snakes an arm around Keith’s shoulders.

The raven hums and tilts his head up to capture Lance’s lips in a kiss, which the brunet immediately deepens with opening his mouth and welcoming Keith’s tongue inside. Their hips start their rhythm again and soon Lance feels too cramped in his sweatpants. Breaking up for air he pushes the material down, shivering when the cold air hits his exposed ass.

Keith fastens his hold on his shirt, watching Lance’s hard dick bob between them. “Are you always going commando?”

The amusement is clear in his tone, though Lance can’t see his expression. “I didn’t plan to go out when I changed after classes”, he defends himself, starting to squirm on Keith’s lap when the cold stings from not moving.

Keith pushes against his back until they’re flush against another, the heat provided by his bare torso helps a lot against the cold. Lance lifts his shirt a little to expose part of his own torso and shivers when the heat of their bare skins combines. Keith nuzzles against his neck and starts to run his hands soothingly over his back. “I won’t touch your ass”, he declares.

Lance pops the cap of the bottle open and squeezes some liquid into his hand to warm it up. “Don’t worry, I’ve got enough practice with prepping myself”, he replies with a cocky smirk, as he reaches behind himself and pushes his fingers between the cheeks of his ass. He starts with one when he suddenly hears a rumble against the side of his neck. His breath hitches when the wet slide of a tongue traces over his collarbone up to the base and circling on the bite there.

He bites on his lip to keep the pained whine inside. “Sorry, I need to focus on your scent”, Keith apologizes as he drags his tongue further up his neck.

Lance focuses on prepping his hole, winces when he adds another finger a little too soon, but moans when Keith puts pressure on his lower back which ends up trapping his dick between their abdomens. Keith’s bulge rubs at the underside of his balls when the man starts to rock his hips up.

“Lance”, Keith groans into his neck, sucking skin between his lips and leaving a purple mark. “Could you...”

The brunet gets what he wants and wiggles his free hand between their bodies to open Keith’s jeans and pull his erection free. For a moment Lance takes the chance to feel his hot length up, running fingers over the hard flesh, squeezing the head and circling his thumb around the slit. Keith’s breath turns ragged, hot puffs of air tickling Lance’s wet skin. He shudders, feeling Keith clench his hands and fisting into his shirt. He can hear the seams rip from the force of it.

 _Fuck_ , he thinks and rearranges himself so that their dicks are pressed together. Then he starts to rock against Keith’s body, pressing their dicks together and also fucking himself open on his fingers.

The next time he feels Keith’s mouth on his lips he’s surprised by the force behind this kiss, it seems like Keith desperately tries to feel him, to stay focused on him and not lose consciousness.

“It’s begun”, he states after pulling away to take a breath. Lance is looking down, just a few inches away, and can see the hard look on his lines.

A low growl rumbles through the raven’s chest, only confirming Lance’s statement. Damn.

Going back to kissing, Lance adds another finger, scissors the digits and sighs into the kiss when he doesn’t feel that much of a sting with the addition. He’s ready.

Ceasing his movements, he gets the condom and rolls it over Keith’s length, then adds lube, a lot. Just wanting to be cautious. “Okay, wolf-boy. I’m ready.” He aligns the tip with his entrance and slowly sinks down, wincing a little from the sudden breach but thanks the lube for the glide.

Suddenly there’s a ripping sound, and checking over his shoulder Lance sees that Keith’s fingers are now clawed and during their descend towards his bottom they have ripped his shirt open. Now he feels two hot hands on his ass, cupping each cheek and holding him in place while Keith slams his hips upwards, pushing his dick in all at once.

Lance shivers from the intense feeling of being full all of a sudden, groaning from the sting. He can feel Keith attempting to lift him already, so he hastily puts his hands on the other’s shoulders. “Stop, please. I need a moment to adjust”, he begs breathily, trying to make out Keith’s expression. He needs to cup his jaw and angle his face upward to meet his gaze, at least he supposes that Keith is looking back at him. “Hey, buddy, you still with me?”

The chest under him heaves from a deep breath. He feels Keith swallow, throat moving under his fingers. “Lan—ce”, the name comes out as a throaty rumble, eliciting a shiver crawling up his spine. Lance swallows down the uneasiness and leans down to plant a kiss onto his mouth.

The hands on his ass tighten their grip as Keith starts his attempt to lift Lance anew, and this time Lance doesn’t stop him. He lets himself be guided while he focuses on kissing. It’s more open-mouthed, with the dance of their tongues being the focus of this kiss. Apparently in this state Keith’s far too gone to operate neatly.

The occasional grunts and growls are the only sounds which he makes during their sloppy make-out session, while Lance just hopes that he won’t turn into a wolf right at this moment.

His dick is still trapped between their abdomens but thanks to Keith’s abs being hard as a washboard the friction from gliding over it feels delicious, precum is occasionally oozing out but nobody cares about the mess sliding down Keith’s abdomen and messing up his jeans. Speaking of pants, Lance’s own are still covering one leg and he plans to wear them on his way back to home. Thus he pulls them completely off and pushes them aside. He leaves his socks on, at least something to keep his lower part warm.

Another grumble makes him focus his attention back on Keith, who’s now pressing his face against the middle of his chest and nuzzling at the fabric of his shirt. Lance giggles and lifts a hand towards that shaggy mop of hair to card his fingers through it. “Sorry, no boobies to cuddle up against.” When he starts to rub circles onto his scalp Keith lets out a half-muffled moan against his shirt. Then he clamps his lips around a patch of fabric and starts to suck. The fabric is really thin and white. And somehow Keith managed to get the spot right over his left nipple. So when the wetness touches it the bud hardens and reacts sensitively to the pressure around it. On top of that Keith presses the flat of his tongue against it and Lance can’t stop the mewl from escaping his lips.

Inside him Keith twitches, which makes the brunet gasp. _Did he just get bigger?_ , he thinks but that thought soon flies out of his mind because Keith just managed to graze his prostate. His fingers dig into his shoulders, searching for some kind of grounding from that sensation. His spine tingles from the brief touch.

The licking stops as Keith looks him over—at least Lance assumes it because of the tilt of his head—, then he flexes his hands on Lance’s ass and the next time he goes down his sweet spot is hit dead on. And this time Lance buries his face against the mop of hair, moaning into the tresses and feeling Keith lap again at the wet spot over his nipple.

“K-Keith”, Lance mumbles, moaning when Keith hits his prostate yet again. Henceforth the pace is doubled and soon Lance is a babbling and moaning mess atop Keith’s thighs. He can feel Keith make his own sounds of pleasure which seem to consist of growls and rumbles at this state of turning.

Some time later Lance feels his orgasm approach; he tightens his grip around Keith’s shoulders, digging his fingers into the bare, muscled flesh and starting to clench around Keith’s member. What ultimately pushes him over into bliss is Keith turning his head to the side and biting down into Lance’s left forearm. Shivers ripple through his body from the mix of pain and pleasure as Lance breathes out a moan and spills his seed between their abdomens. Additionally he hears Keith let out a feral growl against his skin, teeth bitting harder until blood spills, and feels the raven fill the condom with his own cum.

When he comes down from his high Keith releases the hold on his forearm and Lance winces from the sting of the bite, grimacing when he sees the wound staining his skin with blood. He wants to ask Keith why the hell he had to bite him again but is stopped when the other man starts to lick over the wound, sucking the spilled blood from his skin.

With a heavy sigh Lance lets him continue until Keith seems to be satisfied. Craning his neck, he tries to get a look at the sky above and feels his blood run cold when he spots the moon, full and shining in that ghostly light, and hanging high on the blackened sky.

Suddenly he’s pushed off Keith’s lap and falls right on his ass, wincing from the collision. With wide, fearful eyes he watches Keith’s face transform into that of a wolf’s. His heart hammers against his ribcage as he can’t stop starring as the human gives way to the beast.

And like a beast he looks, a big beast with the head of a wolf, muscled arms with curved and clawed hands and thick thighs with powerful hind legs. And _fur_ , black as night, with eyes like burning rubies. And he’s looking right at Lance, who has crawled backwards, despite feeling his bare ass scrape against the cold, hard earth. He knows that he can’t run or the beast will see him as prey, but it is really hard to associate this beast with the lone guy he harbors feelings for and had sex with just a moment ago.

When the beast opens his jaws, showing gleaming teeth which are big and look razor sharp, Lance jumps up and runs, just managing to grasp his pants as he scrambled up. Then he throws himself into the bushes, hoping that he will somehow manage to be on the right track back to the safety of his house. At least the moon provides some light.

Behind him he can hear a blood-curdling howl, and then the sound of heavy footsteps following. Lance knows that he’s done for. He curses himself for being so naive to believe that coming here to patch Keith up would not put him in danger, that Keith would still recognize him after his transformation.

_Fuck fuck fuck._

The parts of his body he’s not covering with his pants are the defenseless against the onslaught of branches—at least his dick won’t be abused—and it fucking hurts, he feels the scrapes sting and he knows that he’s basically submitting a trail to himself for the beast. kIf he comes out of this alive—which would be a miracle—he promises himself to never do something this dumb again.

Karma must hate him because just after thinking that—daring to have the tiny glimmer of hope— he stumbles over a protruding root and falls with an undignified yelp face down onto the earth. In the last moment he managed to protect his precious face with his free hand. While he takes ragged breaths he can hear the beast behind him come closer but what ultimately makes him freeze in fear is a _second_ beast appearing just a few feet in front of him. He can see the yellow penetrating gaze before the brown furred body comes into full range of the light of the moon.

 _That is fucked up_ , he thinks, his throat has closed up from how heavy his heart is pumping in his chest. Maybe he’ll die from coronary. That would be the most mellow death.

Before the beast in front can come any closer, the sudden loud growl from behind Lance rips through the silence of the night. Slowly Lance takes a look over his shoulder and watches as the beast—no, _Keith_ —appears from the bush behind, moving on all fours but looking not lesser frightening. His red eyes are the only things Lance is able to make out in the darkness, but it is _not_ Lance those eyes are fixed on.

Not daring to make any move Lance watches how Keith closes the distance until his massive body is halfway covering him. In any other situation he would have appreciated the heat radiating off him, but currently it takes all of his willpower not to go into hysterics.

However a pathetic whimper manages to leave his lips when he feels the rough texture of a tongue lap at his back, doing a long swipe across his partly exposed spine, because of Keith turning the backside of his shirt into shreds. While Lance watches in perplexed confusion how Keith moves to stand up on his hind legs, he hears the other beast let out a growl of its own. Whipping his head around, he witnesses how the brown beast makes a leap towards them.

And that is the moment Lance thinks he’s going to die.

Except the beast doesn’t reach him, isn’t able to, because Keith has done a leap of his own for a crash in midair. In his shocked state Lance manages to crawl away to avoid getting crushed by their frames as they start to fight. Lucky him. With both of them distracted, Lance hides behind a tree a few feet away and busies himself with getting his fucking sweatpants on, which isn’t nice because all that dirt clinging to his skin is rubbing uncomfortably but at least he’s halfway decent again. Just in time to avoid the masses of bodies as they ram into the tree he has been hiding behind. With a dash he gets out of the way, better dirty than injured.

His eyes stay on the fighting beasts as he carefully makes his way out, this time focusing on not tripping. A part of him worries for Keith’s well-being because, _damn_ , they’re basically ripping parts of their bodies open. The brown one has already a few heavy bite wounds on his sides and on one of his arms, while Keith has an open wound on his thigh.

 _And what if Keith dies?_ That thought makes him halt in his steps. He doesn’t want Keith to die. But he himself doesn’t want to die either. Besides what can he do as a simple human?

The sudden yowl of pain makes his blood run cold. Keith is pinned down on his back with the other beast above him, one of his clawed hands is digging into Keith’s gaping wound which is the reason for the cry. And it seems like Keith isn’t able to break free from the hold the other has on him. It’s jaws are open and just a few inches away from Keith’s throat, and fuck if Keith’s doesn’t do something he’s gonna die.

And that conclusion is what pushes Lance into action. He’s got no weapon on him but what he can do is kick his leg out and push right into the gaping wound on the beast’s exposed side.

And that does have an effect on it. It lets out a yowl of pain and snaps its head to the side, trying to get at Lance, but he anticipated the move and jumps away in time before the gleaming teeth can rip him apart.

The good news is that this move made the beast leave its neck exposed to Keith, who catches on and clamps his jaws on that weak spot and bites down. And when the brown beast tries to get him off, Keith snaps his head back and rips out its throat.

What follows is a bloody and gargling mess and Lance has to avert his eyes, else he will throw up, but the agonizing whine is information enough that Keith has won over the other. And while Lance is still busy with keeping his stomach’s contents actually _inside_ his stomach, Keith rolls the limp body off him and pushes himself up into a crouching position.

And suddenly they’re back to the situation of a moment ago. _Oh fuck._

“K-keith, buddy, hey—could you maybe, err, actually _not_ kill me? That would be really nice. I planned to make you breakfast tomorrow after all.” Lance gives talking a chance, because hey why not, maybe Keith will recognize his voice.

That thought goes out of the window when Keith opens his jaws, breathing heavily, while drops of red tinged saliva run down over his chin. Lance shudders again. _Fuck talking_ , he thinks and turns around, wanting to give running away another try, but Keith is faster. Within a few seconds he has stridden over and snatched Lance up around his waist with a mighty hand. And now he’s holding him high over the ground, red eyes gazing up at him, muzzle opened and moving closer towards his head.

“Please, don’t Keith!” Lance lifts his arms in front of himself to shield his head from the fangs. His bite mark throbs from the sudden motion and Lance needs to bite down onto is lip to prevent the whimper from escaping his lips.

Hot puffs of air caress the injury and Lance sneaks a peek from behind his arms to witness Keith sniffing at the bite mark which he had caused during their intercourse. _Does he recognize his saliva on it?_

As an answer to confirm his assumption, Keith swipes his long tongue over the open wound. Lance can’t keep the hiss inside, it fucking stings. Still he doesn’t dare to pull his arm back in fear of the beast’s wrath. So he lets him continue until Keith seems satisfied, which he is after some more seconds of licking.

He never could have predicted what follows that “affectionate” gesture.

Lance has to shield his face when he’s suddenly hauled back down and pinned onto the ground on his belly. He doesn’t know what Keith wants to accomplish with that until he feels a clawed hand hook into the hem of his pants and basically rip them into shreds with just a flick of his wrist. Lance shudders when his ass is exposed again to the cold October air. But what has him more worried than freezing his poor ass off is the massive _erection_ poking against his backside, a hard furnace against his chilled skin.

 _What the fuck_ , he thinks and tries to push himself up with his arms, but the hand on his back prevents him from moving. That and the guttural growl Keith emits as a warning. Lance swallows down the fear and takes a peek over his shoulder to get a look at the beast’s crotch.

 _Holy motherfuckin’_ , that dick is HUGE. Long and thick, hairless and, oh boy, is it dripping with precum. Big drops of white spill down the length and slosh onto his backside, eliciting small shivers, because damn that warm fluid does feel good in this cold night.

And Lance isn’t _that_ naive to not understand what the beast intends to do.

Letting out a shuddering breath, he rests his forehead against the earth while he pushes his ass up and spreads his legs apart. God, he just hopes that Keith will go in slowly, he’s still loose from their earlier intercourse but as a beast Keith’s dick is much bigger and can possibly split him apart. He can’t help but let out a whimper at that thought. “Please, Keith, be careful”, he begs, in hope of getting through to him.

At first there isn’t any reaction from the beast above and Lance feels his skin go clammier by every passing second; the ragged breaths fanning over his spine are the only sound the beast above makes. Then without a warning the hand retreats from pinning him down and instead grabs at his thigh. The grip is strong but the claws don’t draw blood. Which means that Keith has to have got some type of control over his power, right?

Lance doesn’t dare to move a muscle, but lets out a surprised squeak when he feels a wet snout retrace his spine until it reaches his bottom. The brunet blinks owlishly as the texture of a rough tongue pushes between his cheeks and starts to lap at his hole.

His cheeks flush in a ruddy shade when he feels his own dick twitch from the attention on his quivering hole. _Are you kidding me?!_ , he thinks in disbelieve. He can’t comprehend how it is possible for his libido to be so desperate and get aroused by a _beast_ licking him. Though the human behind this beast is Keith, still the man he came to know is not conscious at the moment. He just _killed_ another werewolf.

At that memory Lance looks towards the corpse of the other beast lying at some distance away. He shudders and averts his eyes, muscles starting to spasm as he feels an oncoming panic attack. Please no, if he freaks out right now, Keith will surely kill him.

A low rumble reverberates against his skin, making his hole flutter from the stimulation, which gives Keith the opportunity to press his tongue against it until the tip breaches the rim. That in turn elicits a hiccuped moan from the brunet—his ass is just too attuned to being worked open by a tongue. Getting eaten out is his weakness. Perfect evidence is his dick already filling, dangling between his spread legs.

And by the noise the beast makes—which sounds like a rough version of a coo—Lance isn’t the only one who has noticed his arousal.

What follows next are the wet slurping sounds from Keith tongue-fucking him, reaching even deeper than humanly possible. The stimulation makes the panic subside and when his sweet spot is grazed by the tip a low moan spills from his lips. Immediately shame burns through him from letting out a pleased sound. He presses his mouth against his arms to muffle any further noises that might slip out from the stimulation on his prostate. Which Keith manages a few more times by the way. And each time a tremor wrecks through the brunet’s body and a moan falls against the meat of his arms. Saliva spills down the back of his thighs, while drops of precum spurt onto the earth. Goosebumps rise when Keith retreats his tongue and breathes hot puffs of air against his wet hole. It’s looser now and Lance might be able to take Keith’s cock, if the beast is patient enough to go slow.

With his gaze focused forward, he can see movement in the corner of his eye; two hands brace themselves onto the earth beside him as Keith returns to his position from before, hovering over him. The tickling of fur against his upper back is telling him that Keith is bending his upper body forward, mimicking Lance’s position. Despite these morbid circumstances the warmth of his body feels soothing and makes him relax some more.

His heartbeat is still far from beating at a normal rate, but at least Lance doesn’t have to worry about the possibility of dying during sex. Which doesn’t mean that it makes this situation any less freaky. But maybe now there’s the chance to get out of this alive… and eat breakfast together with Keith again. A gasp leaves his lips as he realizes what he just thought. That he wants to see Keith again after this is over.

He forms his hands into fists and winces the next moment when the sharp pain of the bite on his underarm stings from the movement. Somehow over the course of events he forgot about the wound. It’s still open, but the blood has stopped flowing. Lance grimaces when he spots flecks of dirt clinging to the open flesh. God he really hopes that his tetanus shot is still valid. Though that’s something he can’t worry about right now.

“Damn”, he still curses and jerks back when Keith pushes his snout closer and starts to run his tongue over the wound. “Is this some kind of mark?”, he wonders aloud, because this is the second time Keith’s doing this. Maybe that mark is the reason why he is still alive.

The sudden drag of a warm and wet appendage between his cheeks reminds him of the act that is going to take place. Without guiding, Keith’s dick is probably not going to enter him without ripping him open. And by the low growl rumbling against his back the beast seems to get impatient.

Lance lets out a deep breath to calm his nerves before he reaches back to wrap his fingers around the beast’s member. Teeth gnaw on his bottom lip when he just barely manages to enclose it, God is it _big_. “Fuck”, Lance curses, as sweat starts to bead on the back of his neck. He can just pray that he’s loose enough to take him.

The breach of the tip is stinging at first and Lance has to focus on breathing steadily and not succumbing to panic. The beast above is letting out a steady rumble as if urging him on to continue. Which he does, ever so carefully he pushes himself back onto the member until he feels he can’t take in any more. There’s still a little left in the open and Lance really really hopes that the beast won’t force itself further in. “I can’t take any more”, he says and looks into the ruby orbs which are watching him. Keith has stopped with the licking and has turned his head a little to regard him.

His rim is tight around the length but thanks to all that spit and precum it’s not getting ripped open from the stretch. And after another calming intake of air Lance is brave enough to move again, forward until only the tip remains, then back until it’s enough. On the third time he manages to hit his prostate and lets a gasp escape his lips, his own dick is twitching and dribbling more precum onto the earth.

But the muscles of his legs can only endure so much before they quiver and give out. He’s been kneeling for too long so it it no surprise that his legs can’t remain in this position anymore. “Sorry”, he gasps as his legs start to fall forward. What surprises him is the hand that wraps itself around his lower abdomen to hold his lower half upright. For a second Lance fears that his dick will be crushed but the clawed fingers are opened and the hold is loose. His dick gives a happy twitch from being trapped in warmth and Lance feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

The beast lets out a snort. “Not funny”, Lance hisses and nudges the snout away that has moved towards the side of his neck. He’s ticklish there. “You have to move”, he informs and yelps when he’s pushed further into the earth from the force of the powerful trust the beast had made. “Ah, fuck, _stop!_ ”, he cries after another push. He’ll only get more dirt into his wound like that.

With a huff Keith lifts him off the ground a little to position his free arm right under him on the ground. When he’s lowered again Lance is now able to grip at the furred arm and brace himself better against the trusts. A moment after he understood, Keith is already continuing with trusting and Lance hurries to clamp onto it.

The movement only hurts in the beginning but as soon as his body has accommodated to the girth, Lance feels pleasure usher him into relaxing. With every trust his pelvis rubs against the hand splayed on his abdomen and his dick gives happy twitches from the friction, and combined with the occasional nudge on his sweet spot Lance can’t help but succumb to pleasure. He knows that it should freak him the hell out but maybe the knowledge that this beast is _Keith—_ the man who he has met for the last months, who he came to like and developed a crush on—makes this situation not so wrong as it should be. At least he prefers being fucked over getting his throat ripped out.

He snorts into the meat of the arm at that morbid thought. The wet tip of a snout presses against the nape of his neck, tongue pushing out to lap at the skin, while the hips keep trusting. Lance shivers from the rough drag, goosebumps rising on his skin. He’s breathing raggedly, enjoying to be wrapped up by the beast’s heat. Thanks to that he doesn’t feel cold anymore. The rumble against his back makes small shivers ripple over his spine. He offers his injured arm and watches how the beast once again licks at the skin. It looks better, no fresh blood is welling up anymore. Seems like the saliva helps a lot.

“You _are_ recognizing me”, he states and nestles his chin onto the warm arm.

It goes on for a few more minutes before Lance feels himself approach his peak. Warmth is spreading in his lower belly and his breathing is going faster. Against his back he also feels the heaving of the chest go faster, seems like Keith is also approaching release.

Thanks to his arm being free again Lance is able to slide it between the hand and his pelvis. It just needs some rubs on his cockhead and Lance comes on the next roll of Keith’s hips, cock ramming into his prostate. With a mewled moan Lance comes, spilling over his fingers and Keith’s hand while his walls clamp down on the massive girth and in turn coax the beast into releasing his semen into him. Another moan spills over his lips as he feels the hot liquid fill his ass until it basically squirts around Keith’s member, dripping down over Lance’s thighs. God, it’s so much. Lance has never felt so full with another man’s fluids...

He huffs out a bitter laugh, okay, Keith is not exactly _a man_ right now. And slowly it gets uncomfortable with the amount of semen in his ass and the hand splayed over his abdomen and pressing against his bulging belly. “Out, _out_ ”, he ushers and tries to get the hand off him with a tug because Keith still hasn’t budged. “Keith, _please!_ ” He’s now trying to wriggle desperately out of his grip, he’s going to burst if Keith doesn’t release him.

Ever so slowly the beast finally relents and moves its hips back, pulling out agonizingly slow of Lance, who lets out a whimper at the feeling, until—with an embarrassingly loud squelching noise—the cock finally pops free, which in turn lets the semen leak out. And Lance is really glad that nobody’s here to witness him in this state, because it’s hella mortifying how steadily the white fluid leaks out of his quivering hole. But he needs it _out!_

When the flow lessens, Lance nudges at the furred mass over him until the beast budges and pulls back for Lance to kneel back on his legs, grab his cheeks and pull them apart. Gravity does the rest. He cheeks burn and even though he’s facing away, he still knows that the beast is starring, can feel the hot gaze on his body.

A minute later he feels empty enough to let out a sigh and crawl out of the puddle of semen. He wrinkles his nose at his dirty skin. A mix of dried blood, earth and semen. _Bah!_

“I need a shower”, he mutters and lets his eyes trail over the ground in search for his destroyed pants and grimaces upon finding them and seeing that he can’t wear them anymore. “You owe me another pair”, he says over his shoulder. The wind picks up and a cold breeze around him makes him shudder. “And a new shirt”, he adds after taking in the damage on his shirt. It just barely clings onto one arm and one side. It’s a wonder that it hasn’t already fallen off.

Instead of a verbal answer, which Lance hasn’t really counted on anyways, Keith suddenly stands up on his hind legs, burning gaze on him. A new sensation of fear washes over the brunet’s back as he looks up at him. Is he going to kill him after all? Lance feels his heart constrict in his chest.

The beast indeed pushes out a clawed hand but only to wrap it around his middle and hoist him up over his shoulder. Lance shrieks nonetheless.

Then Keith starts to move, one hand holding Lance steady on his shoulder while Lance just stares one more time at the gruesome scene they are leaving while he clutches his hands into the broad furred back.

“Shouldn’t you—I don’t know, bury the body? If they find the corpse they’ll definitely know you’re here”, Lance says, yet again not expecting an answer. With a sigh he closes his eyes and focuses on the heat of Keith’s body.

Awhile later the beast stops in its tracks and Lance is lifted off its shoulder and placed onto the ground. He blinks up in surprise at the beast before he lets his eyes roam around and discovers in disbelieve that they’ve reached the back of his garden. Lance feels his shoulders sag with relieve. “So you _do_ remember”, he addresses the beast again, who just stares back at him. The brunet begins to rubs his arms, skin chilling from being away from the comforting warmth. “Thanks, I guess.”

A huff. And then the beast turns around to go back to the forest. Lance’s eyes widen. “Wait, uh, _Keith_ , I’m expecting you for brunch, you hear that!”, he calls after the retreating form of the werewolf.

When Lance isn’t able to spot him anymore he turns around and crawls into the tent he always provides for Keith. He’ll stay here until Keith comes back. Shower can wait.

Keith always comes back muddy and bloody, so Lance has to wash the blankets anyway. Luckily he put some warmer ones inside. With a happy sigh he wraps them around himself and nestles into the soft pillow. It’s not as warm as Keith’s body heat but it will suffice for the remaining hours of the night.

.

Lance startles awake from slumber when he feels a body nestle itself against his side and when he opens his eyes to check if it is not a perverted creep, he meets the familiar grey eyes of Keith, shining with a warm red glimmer—the last of what is left of the beast.

A smile forms on his lips and he immediately wriggles one end of the cocoon open to usher Keith closer until the man is pressed up against his side. Despite the cold outside his body is practically burning and Lance lets out a content mewl when the heat spreads over to his own skin. They’re both naked and dirty but Lance doesn’t give a fuck. He’s happy to snuggle up against Keith’s broader frame and pushes his face right under his chin. A strong arm snakes over his middle to pull him closer.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” The words are mumbled into his brown locks as lips press down a kiss onto the crown of his head. And Lance, like a lovesick idiot, feels his heart nearly burst from happiness.

 

The End (for now)

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow it turned out fluffier than I first intended. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
